


Definition of Family

by AMRainer



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Angst, But I thought it might have a future, F/M, Family, Friendship, Romance, it was supposed to be oneshot, so here we go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-08-31 14:09:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8581534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AMRainer/pseuds/AMRainer
Summary: Three of them are safe. One of them is broken.





	1. Chapter 1

"What?!" her exclamation came a bit more altercated then she presumed. Emily was still shaken to the bone after the last case and now this. When they talked on the phone weeks ago, she knew there was something unusual going on. She had that feeling because in which damned world would Hotch go away for a special assignment without calling for help? _Her help_. Because he never did this time and she knew he wouldn't have if she hadn't volunteered.

At first, she thought it was just a sign that he'd be back as soon as it was all over, but then, he didn't pick up the phone for the last few days and her mind wandered for two things. One, he was busy; two, something absurdly wrong was happening. She took the latter because even when they were through the worst cases, they managed to have at least a 'Hello, have a nice day. Busy but good.'

They promised each other this. They promised they'd always keep an eye on each other since Foyet. He was always overprotective of her and she always had that concern both about him and Jack, so it was no big deal.

Now Dave just told her about witness protection and Peter Lewis going after Jack at his school and the resignation letter… Emily's head spiraled for a minute, trying to register all the explosion of information. Her eyes widened in tingling fear.

"And there's more, I am sorry to say."

"Sure, there's always more." she snickered, shrugging her disapproval as she folded her arms across her chest.

"Kid, it came to me that he requested one last thing." her frown mimicked his and she was almost sure she just shot his famous glare.

"You're talking like he's… dead."

The thought of burying him tore her to pieces. She couldn't bear the thought any longer and she shook her head in denial. "We're gonna find that Mr. Scratch and he'll come back."

"Emily, I don't think he would want to come back, not after all that happened to his family through all these years. Not after he said he wants you to take his place!" the lump in her throat became painful. _No way. He didn't. He'd never do that. He promised that, he promised… Oh lord._

"No way! I can't do that. You take his place." she denied protectively.

Rossi's office never seemed so small and suffocating.

"I'll tell you what's about to happen: we will go after Peter Lewis, we're gonna destroy this son of bitch's life just like we did with Doyle and Foyet before him and everything will be alright just like it used to be!"

The room sank into devastating silence. Emily kept the last word, stubbornness spitting everywhere as a defensive mechanism. For a few minutes, she considered leaving the room, storming off to wherever she could go with a half gas tank.

Dave watched her reaction with careful eyes. He was worried and sad and as hurt as anyone who practically lost his best friend for God knows how long would be, but he kept his self-control in order to help the team and he always thought the brunette would do the very same. If not for them, she'd do that naturally due her persistent urge to be the strongest. There was something else going on.

"Emily…" she felt a large palm touching her back. "I know that this is by far the worst moment this team has ever gone through, but we're gonna make it together and I need your help with the others. I can't even imagine how JJ and Reid will react to the news; put aside Garcia. You know how she is. I need your help. _We_ need your help. That's what Hotch would want you to do."

She sighed in defeat. He was right. Even with all those matter of facts, there was something she couldn't forbid and if she had to be honest with herself, she'd grieve his departure in unassuming silence every single day because of that. It would be, by far, one of the greatest woes she'd have to face in a while.

"You're right…" her hand reached for her pants' pocket, the small metal chain entwining her fingers. She had to do this. For him, for her, _for the four of them_.

Rossi stared at her vacant eyes, her hand inside her pocket and the nervous twitch on the corner of her lips. She was quivering inwardly, he was sure of that.

"I need you to be honest with me. Is there anything else going on with you?" his question was crystal clear. It had to be or he'd never have an answer. "I want you to tell me now."

She met his eyes with an expression of pure vulnerability. Her hand gave him one of the two things she's been hiding from every human being. Even from herself at some points. The older agent looked down to find a slim metal chain holding a shiny silver wedding band. No other words were needed as he stood silently questioning how and why they bothered to hide this from their family.

"You lost a friend, I lost my husband." the words were murmured almost like they were the greatest secret one could bear. Dave had no reaction but a look of empathy and somehow surprise filling his features. "Tell me…" she gasped, trying to avoid the tears. "Tell me how I tell this to a little girl…" Emily looked down again, grabbing her ring from his hand. "Never mind."

She spun on her heels in order to vanish from the office before she was caught crying her eyes out. Emily reached the door knob, almost swinging the door open when she heard a voice behind her.

"How old is _she_?"

Emily slipped a faint smile due the thought of the small black haired girl with her mother's eyes and her father's dimples, "She's three."

"You have the chance of coming back home one day for the three of them, kid…" his hands slipped inside his front pockets; Dave knew the risk of the chase, but he also knew Emily would do anything in her power to save them. "I'll tell you what I told Aaron once; you have a family, don't let the purest thing in your life slip away."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, a huge thank you to my most beautiful beta Betty Drake!

Dave suggested they should talk to the team as soon as possible but Emily wasn't ready for that, _not yet_. She almost begged Rossi to give her a couple of days therefore she could bring herself together. Most of all, she could have the chance to find some sense in everything that happened.

He never discussed this with her. _Never_. Still when she found her spare key among the bags she barely had undone, Emily had the feeling that there was something else going on. Her suspicions were just confirmed when she found his – _their_ – home perfectly clean. All the furniture, his clothes, Jack's clothes and even the food were intact.

Emily took a minute to reach out for that light blue shirt he adored. Tears sprinkled her dark eyes as her nostrils captured the small waves of his cologne. _God_ , how she hated the scent. A faint smile crept on her lips accompanying the tender remembrance of the countless times she asked him to change it. He was just as stubborn as she was, she loved that about them.

Salty droplets became tortuous oceans as the yellow girlish walls – recently painted – contrasted with the other teenage half. She could almost even hear Jack's voice as he used his Nerf with the tiny brunette to shoot the monsters away during their most recent visit. It had been a short while after Aaron was SWATed right in front of the sandy haired boy. Rage flew her veins wildly. She needed to destroy Peter Lewis. _She had to._

* * *

The brunette walked in obstinately, her clean leather boots clashing as she took another pile of paperwork upstairs. Emily couldn't be weak at the job. She came to terms with being strong was the only way to save _them_. To save _her_.

They had announced his abrupt departure to the team three days after that miserable morning in which her goateed friend talked her into accepting his last request. The smallest thought of losing him forever hurt her to the core and she struggled to push away the possibility that those were his last words to her. But they were and it hurt like hell. As a matter of facts, Rossi told them because all she could do was give them a dead smile of defeat. Yes, she was afraid to even murmur her own surname - put aside with his given name preceeding it -. She knew the pain of not seeing his playful eyes whenever she called him _'Hotch'_. Once, he called her by his nickname.

"We do look like a Hotch." his image right beside her in the mirror became crystal clear as a peaceful memory.

She had to compartmentalize, she had to pull through. Her pained sigh told her to move ahead, told her she should just hood her chocolate orbs and walk in as she had been doing it every day. However, she couldn't help the sour taste gracing her lips when she read the plate: "Emily Prentiss". This was not her, not anymore, and she convinced herself playing this character was the only way to protect her - their - family. Thus, she successfully managed to do just that from the moment she crossed the door of her – his – office. Emily became Prentiss. And it never felt more out of place.

Later that same night the new Unit Chief found herself stuck on the same page about that petty monster for over half an hour. Her mind ran vaguely to how the both of them were feeling in that very moment. She missed him so much, especially late at night. Emily was lost in her thoughts when she heard a knock on her opened door.

"Ma'am," Pen's always smiling tone chanted. "I'm sorry to interrupt while you are working hard later than usual a.k.a. 'later than common humanity', but I was peeking through Hotch's life as you asked and I just found something very strange."

Her head lifted in a split second, heels running to the blonde's batcave. Emily gave her no words – also, Penelope couldn't stop rambling – because she knew both of them were torn to ashes. That's why the tech analyst had been the first to spontaneously volunteer on her chase for Lewis, as always, with a mug filled to the brim with strong coffee.

Her brown orbs met Alvez's figure, his ever so smooth eyes seemed tired and she couldn't be more grateful for his effort. He barely even knew her or Hotch. Put aside their marriage and the small piece of them who was about to land stateside. None of them were aware of the existence of a Mrs. Hotchner. None of them were aware she was that very woman.

"We found a sealed file, three actually." Luke turned towards the screens, pointing at the shiny images. "Two of them are from international courts, London and Vienna, the other is local."

"Any guess about the dates?"

"I dug all the land of online wisdom and found zip, nada, but my muse was certainly inspired and our dearest newbie here decided to help with my magic trick and don't even ask how I got it boss lady but I did." the colorful woman sipped the black content in her left hand. "The London file is from October 5, 2013"

She sighed in defeat, jaw immediately tensed, every mini expression stiffened. Emily seemed to be in relentless pain, fighting inwardly for the upcoming truth and the woes of facing it alone were overwhelming.

"It's sealed and encrypted. Should I do my thing on them?"

"No." the brunette replied single-minded before turning towards the new agent. "Luke, please, gather the team for me early tomorrow." one check to her wristwatch – _his first gift_ – invited no further discussion and Alvez found himself nodding. "I must go now, see you tomorrow."

"But ma'am, shouldn't we-"

The loud bang of the door left Penelope speechless. Last time she saw Emily that cold and mysterious, she was trying to save them from Ian Doyle. Bitter remembrances glassed her light eyes as one large palm splayed on her yellow dress clad shoulder.

"So you tell me, Emily and Hotch, were they too close?" the new agent inquired. "I mean, she seems devastated."

"We all are." Garcia quipped within a tiny exchange of looks, lips slightly quivering.

"It's different, I don't know… it's almost like someone murdered one of her closest relatives." he shrugged carelessly, folding his arms across his chest as he leaned on one of the blonde's over decorated tables.

And then it occurred to her. One thing led to another and all the remarkable moments, the tiny signals also, crossed her caffeinated brain like flashes. From the way Hotch had rather called her Emily when they had that case in Chicago, to how he never dated again after he broke up with Beth a while after Emily accepted to run the London's INTERPOL office and ending up with the seasonal trips he had taken with Jack every summer and holidays to somewhere in Europe. Always different places, almost like he was trying to hide something…

She spun on her office chair, typing furiously the keyboards until the three files popped up on her screen. Secrets be damned, they never did any good to their team anyway.

"Oh. My. God." her mouth formed a perfect "o", jaw fallen in a mix of surprise, happiness, _hope_ maybe, and shuddering despair.

In front of her very eyes, Penelope perused a wedding and birth certificate, a custody paper, all of them – for her utter shock – were properly filled with two familiar names and their respective signatures right below: Aaron Hotchner and Emily _Hotchner_.


	3. Chapter 3

Small pairs of arms and legs enveloped the Unit Chief, nuzzling the crook of her neck. The warmness draped her sleepy figure and reminded Emily of why she had engaged in that deathly chase.

She brushed her lips to the curtain of raven-hair as she felt that piece of them stiffen then flutter her doe eyes open. In those gleaming irises, the mother saw a sad reflection of her own longing, her sweetest memories which were reduced to mere remembrances.

When Hotch agreed with her bold idea of living miles away and only putting he band together during vacation, holidays, birthdays, anniversaries, among some other needy moments, he never anticipated such _disastrous_ situation. That's what she presumed, at least. They never expected running away to save one another, though both Hotchners knew they'd do anything in their power for so.

It was dangerous for the four of them. Emily questioned his decision in her mind countless times, considering Peter Lewis was one hell of a hacker to even put down Garcia's systems. If Penelope could unseal the encrypted files, so could that rat faced son of a bitch. And there lived the _fear_.

Maybe he should have taken his girls with him and Jack. Witness protection would be hard on their _family_ , that was one thing for sure, but all of them would be _safe_. _Together_. But maybe he thought bringing them with him would make clear to Lewis that he could affect him by harming them. Witsec would become a desperate – _constant_ \- attempt to flee from his hands. Relentless and with an enormous potential to break them apart.

Therefore, they remained so close but still so far from building the true unity they always dreamed of. Both Aaron and Emily never signed up for this war when they said their vows so quietly at that small chapel in the outskirts of Vienna. _Never_.

Her chest heaved in a painful sigh while her fingers traced the length of Rosie Hotchner's strands. They were falling right above her shoulders, silky and with gentle curves that had to be perfectly untangled every single morning. Just like her _mother's_.

"Mornin', mama" a tiny yawn followed her first sentence, the slight British accent never failed to entertain the whole gang.

"Morning, peanut" wide brown eyes stared at the girlish dimples on display "Did you have good dreams?"

"Yup" the little girl nodded unsubtly as she snuggled closer to her mother's worn out body "Papa'n you was playin' with me'n Jack"

"Oh…" Emily held the overflow of feelings at bay, after all, she had to be strong for the both of them, it was her uttermost _oath_ and likely the only one she would be capable to keep.

"Wher's my papa? I miss him" her inquiry torn the mother of one to pieces, much due her knowledge that it was a long time coming.

Although Rosie had spent just a bit more than five hours stateside, the little girl was smart enough to realize something was oddly off about her mother, their usual routine there and the uncommon sensation of a hotel room around her. Her papa and her big brother were not there to pick her up in the airport – which, also, was not the one her mama would usually choose to their arrival -, put aside the presence of her nanny whole through it and the way Emily was dressed like she had just came back from work.

"He's travelling" she cooed the three years-old with her arms wrapped tight round her, hiding the truth from herself and from the world "But he'll be back soon and we'll have those chocolate chip muffins he always bakes for you"

"I love muffins!"

The brunette mother achieved her aim to distract the younger Hotchner as she went on and on, implacable on the subject through shower, breakfast, even on the way to Quantico. Cate had almost to beg her to stop when they reached the garage, always with the prettiest of the smiles and the kindest of the manners. Of course that was a matter of facts, since the nanny had been very well recommended by the great Ambassador Prentiss herself.

Her mind plundered again those hazy recollections that often popped up into her mind. It was almost like she could watch the scene in front of her eyes, hooding her attention from the brutal reality.

"I bet she knows more about _our_ daughter than I do" he had offered sheepishly in their honeymoon, less than two years ago "C'mon, if you let this girl raise her full time, we'll have a dictionary of twenty languages"

"And what's the problem with that?" the brunette left her isolation inside the toilet, wearing the fanciest black dress she had brought with her "You said you think my French is a turn on"

"It is, but you are my _wife_ and she's my daughter", Emily approached him with a skeptical look – though gleeful from the word he just uttered - as she maneuvered to perfectly knot his bowtie.

"Here comes the Alpha Hotch to the surface" she muttered within the short period of an exaggerated eye roll "Let's make a deal, if you stop complaining about Cate, I swear to God I scream to you in all the languages I know"

He cocked an eyebrow and she drank in the sight of his lips forming a sly grin with the fantasies filling his mind. She loved playing and _he loved her_ , nothing more, nothing less, "I should have pointed you more often for hostage negotiations"

"Says the man who wrote a book about it" she patted his chest twice before withdrawing the touch in order to grab her matching clutch "C'mon Mr Hotchner, the Ambassador waits at all expenses paid" she chuckled and pressed her lips to his mouth in a chaste kiss.

"Right after you, Mrs Hotchner", she thought about complaining – she was not used to title, not _yet_ \- but his wide smile elicited her own dimples to flash towards his statement.

"Emily, are you alright?" the feminine voice, painted in all the colors of the most British of the accents, brought her back to the present instant in which she had just parked to seal her fate with her other _family_.

"Yes, thank you" she whispered "I'll go first, then I'll text you so you can meet us at the briefing room"

With a nod, the three women left the car and followed their paths. Emily couldn't deny the twist in her guts when she considered a possible anger towards the news she was about to give them. She had lied once, but she did that to protect them from the darkest moment of her life. Yet, things were absolutely different this time. She had lied because she had not even a bit of _courage_ to admit how deeply she loved him, how profoundly she depended on their family and relied on his strength to maintain the natural flow of her life.

Also, she didn't want to be questioned or pressured to come back to the team, to fill the void she had left permanently and, most of all, she wanted to nurture their relationship in peace and silence, with no crazy unsubs targeting her or Rosie or Aaron or Jack for the singular fact that they were happy together.

The elevator dinged open for her entry, and Emily watched the doors close with the unique sensation that the walls of her plans had just crumbled to _dust_.


	4. Chapter 4

The mother of one didn't know for sure whether she was grateful or not when she crossed the glass door to find the whole team occupying the briefing room. Alvez had followed her command strictly – she was thankful for that -, but her stomach twitched in anticipation as wonders of their responses to such delicate matter filled her mind.

Dave already had plain view of their relationship. She was reluctant to answer at first. Yet, he patiently reassured her, a hand comforting her back and those eyes brewed with some few years of experience ahead. And so Emily told him their small tale in all the colors she recollected, from the cold grey of London' skyline to shining bulbs in Paris when he asked her.

She sucked in a deep breath until her lungs burned or, at least, until Anderson popped up in front of her with a terrified look. The brunette recognized this fear of being late from her early days at the bullpen. Still, she shot him an unamused glare – resembling her husband's - that had the younger man complimenting her with a single nod and promptly sprinting to his desk. It elicited a bubble of laughter which she had to choke on as she finally – but oh so finally – traced the line between their kitchenette and the back door.

She swung it open in a smooth movement, fidgeting ever so slightly and unnoticed. When her eyes caught a glimpse of a too calm Garcia, Emily putted two and two together without a second guessing. The tech analyst had peeked the file she was not supposed to, and if one questioned such action, she'd stammer to announce that she had been afraid, missing sleep for she thought something even worse than all that tragedy was going on.

Reading Luke or Tara was more difficult, mostly because she lacked experience. But she could see the latter folding her arms across her chest as a protective move. On the other hand, Rossi probably assumed she was due to break the news and fished his phone, playing some scrabble game.

Eying JJ, Emily could see a great, overwhelming, concern above a tint flash of _"a mother knows_ ". And that was something she discovered throughout the last three years. There's a special connection for those who share motherhood, a way to speak so primal and enveloped in pure empirical realization.

Albeit Spencer seemed as vulnerable as always, she had that feeling he'd be the one to accept her – _their_ – decisions faster than the others. He had told her she should be happy, chase it to her life and she had followed his advice. From the moment she called Hotch in order to go out for a drink to the very minute she now stood in front of the team.

"Morning" her trembling smile was such a giveaway while she earned their simple greetings "I-I never thought we'd…"

The Unit Chief blew some air, trying to focus on her unique mission there. Save her _family_ , save _herself_. Emily pledged herself that she wouldn't withdraw this time.

"Alright, I'll try to be the less wordy I can" the sentence tripped her tongue, remembrances eating her out "Shortly after Derek and Pene came back from London, I took a short trip to sort some things out here in America, the last ones before I could completely settle down. It was a very short visit, three days or something, and that's why I didn't warn you about my stay. Hotch was aware because he was due to deliver me some papers, reports about the whole Doyle case and about the period I spent in France."

She gasped, nodding the slightest whilst images formed behind her eyes. Emily couldn't bring herself to stare at the worried team, she barely could believe that she was about to tell them that. Something so intimate and personal. Something the Emily _Prentiss_ would never do, put aside the Emily _Hotchner_.

"He had just broken up with Beth, I was lonely, and we…" she bit her lower lip, polling the right words "We had a _moment_ , that became a lot of other moments, and then, when we least expected, the both of us were boarding the first planes to see each other, spending an unbelievable amount of money with phone calls, tickets, anything in our power…" a tiny smile slipped, the baritone voice of her husband telling her that maybe it was time for Jack to have a bedroom at her place echoed her depths "I know, I know we spent years working together and… it was… it just wasn't the right time"

JJ had hurt in her blue oceans, but an unyielding joy flared from the cellars. Despite the odds, somewhere deep down she knew they always had something lying quietly within. The glances, the smiles, _everything_. They wouldn't be able to hide it forever.

"But… accidents happen, and I can't even call this an accident at all because it made me complete in ways I never felt before" her tongue darted to wet her lower lip as she exhaled strongly "In the beginning of 2013, I found out that I was…" her heart thumped against her chest with such force that she swore to God that she could feel it pounding in her ears "I was _pregnant_ , that _Hotch and I_ were having a baby"

"Did he…?" the boy genius trailed off using a tone above a whisper, sorrow exploding behind his lids.

"No, he didn't leave me" she replied in order to dissipate such preoccupations "Actually… after JJ's kidnapping, after I came back for that brief period, we took a family weekend in Paris, the four of us, and he proposed to me…" the awe in Garcia's and JJ's expression made her happier, made her more courageous, made her _stronger_ "We got married in Vienna that same year, a week before the holidays, and Hotch granted me Jack's custody"

The new boss concluded her odyssey, stomach throbbing due the ulcer she never healed of. At the same time that she was hoping for reactions, she was craving for blankness.

Instead, she got good sentiments from their newer addition, a tad of surprise from Tara for she never imagined this when they first met in the beginning of this year, the proud face of David Rossi, pure glee framing Penelope's smile and a knowing look from the blonde mother. Reid showed something she couldn't quite describe. Pain, disappointment. _Maybe_.

"Emily Prentiss, you are aware that the both of you will have to totally enact the marriage again, right? I mean, Jayje and I waited a lifetime to be your bridesmaids!" the analyst squealed as she broke the excruciating silence. Emily was thankful and the arms she wrapped around her friend's body just seconds after made her feel better, confident even.

"Yes, sign me up, if I didn't love you or already knew how stupid you can be I'd be pissed at you" JJ quipped as she embraced her brunette friend.

"Who's in for the party? I am" Lewis raised her hand from her spot, stroking the Unit Chief's back right before Luke and Dave could approach their group.

"I knew it, I'll be honest" the older profiler gave her a crooked smile.

"Oh God, wait, I'll be sincere too, I totally checked out the files yesterday, the newbie tried to stop me but you know how I am and I… okay, I may or may not have changed your plates this morning, all for good I swear"

"It's fine, thank you" Emily smiled genuinely at Pen's statement; she had to be surrounded by the greatest people on earth, she just had to. "There's someone else who wants to meet you and _she_ 's probably…"

The mother sensed her little girl's presence from distance, instincts speaking louder. Her orbs captured her small navy coat, black shoes and fingers interlaced with Cate's as they crossed the glass door with confused looks. Rosie seemed more interested in her muffins, though.

"Well, guys..."

"She's Hotch's pocket version! Oh my God! Oh my God!" the gleam in her friend's eyes was priceless as she spun on her hells to reach for the younger Hotchner, just near her mother's old desk "She's got the frown!"

It was the last thing her ears were able to identify before the whole team cheerfully followed an enthusiastic Garcia. Emily moved to do the very same, until she noticed Reid's eyes bored into her, sadness pouring. He shook his head in denial before he shortened the space between himself and the back door.

"Spencer..." her voice came out softly; Rossi and Alvez - who were the remainders at the precinct – quickened their pace. "What's...?"

"Look, Emily, the first time, about Doyle and your fake death, yeah, I got that, I understood why those things had to be done. But now?" he appeared exasperated as his orbs seared her expression "This time, honestly, I can't."

"Spencer…" she repeated almost inwardly.

"What?!"

"I can't even imagine-" Emily was cut off before she could finish her sentence, guilty trickling all over, spilling the heavy drops of the choice which she thought would be capable to shield her – _them_ – from these situations.

"What I'm feeling? Yeah…" he scoffed, piercing his eyebrows as he reached for the knob only to slam the door behind him as soon as his next sentence came to an end "You can't because you're not who spent all this time watching the person you _considered_ to be your best friend lying over and over again like you're not even worthy to know it anyway"


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, check out the final notes because there's a small challenge in this one!

Behind her woodened desk, the brunette chief struggled to keep her eyes open as she glanced at her wristwatch and realized it was too late. She had been almost living at the office, but since her – _their_ \- daughter's arrival just two weeks ago Emily decided to head home in time to read her some bedtime stories. It was the least she could do in order to make her father's and brother's absences don't hit her too hard.

Filling her suitcase with files about Peter Lewis, among some other new cases they had been through, the mother of one took a minute to stare at her plate. Garcia had changed it without her consent, all in a surge of surprise and excitement. At first, she considered this gesture an overreaction to her discovery.

Two days later, though, when a FBI cadet walked in to deliver papers strictly to her, she couldn't help a tiny smile lingering as her ears captured her usual addressing.

"Mrs. Hotchner", the young man spoke after perusing the black and white metal "The files you asked for"

Ever since, something changed within her. Maybe it was a feeling that she, indeed, belonged there somehow. Maybe it was a desperate hope that - after she had been open with those she considered to be part of her family - they could finally work together and bring _him_ back. Because they could understand her, care for the matter in much deeper consideration, after all, it wasn't just Hotch and Jack, it was Emily, Rosie… _their_ family.

And the team, mainly those who have been there from the beginning, knew their ex-leader, along with their new chief, had so much tragedy throughout the years. If they had a chance to restart, to fall in love and build a family – put aside that they did it together – there was no way in hell they would allow another unsub to take this away from them.

Still, there was Spencer Reid who had said no words out of the profiles or tactical guides in field. They had been friends from her first days with the BAU and right when she most needed him, he detached. Yes, the raven-haired woman was aware of her guilt in this process, she shouldn't have hidden her whole life from him. Not from him, at least.

It was hurting her deeply to watch him running away from her, leaving the room whenever they were supposed to be alone or even avoiding eye contact. She tried to talk to him, once, twice… _countless_ times before JJ told her to let him think, let the anger and that lump in his throat to dissipate.

"How long?", her voice trembled in worry, sight partially focused on the images pinned "I can't handle this for much longer"

The blonde shrugged, folding her arms across her chest, "Weeks, maybe a month or two" a defeated sigh left Emily's lungs and made the younger profiler almost murmur her following words "Em, I barely can imagine what you're feeling but you must understand him, you know, whichever yours and Hotch's reasons were, you both shouldn't have kept this from us."

Somehow, Jayje was gone too from that moment forward. Most of all for Emily discovered what her true motivations were. Rosie and Jack. Anything she did was going to be about their children, about saving a family, about protecting two innocent creatures from the inferno their parents trapped them into.

For the first time in three years, the agent hated herself for diving in that abyss of motherhood, for bringing a little girl to this ruthless world. On her way home – she moved to his place a couple of days after the announcement – Emily tried to maintain her grip with all the fiber she had. It wasn't easy at all. It was just excruciating to face this whole situation by herself, without him to ground her and her to hold him.

Once, before they ever dreamed about marriage or having kids, they planned a way to tell the team about their relationship. It was half year through it and he had just lost Strauss to the Replicator.

"No" he brushed his lips to her temple, tasting salty droplets of perspiration "I swear, I won't spend the rest of my days wondering what we could have been"

"I'm right here and I don't plan going anywhere", she nuzzled his bare chest whilst they snuggled closer, legs tangled as they lay naked in the post-coital haze. "Besides, I can't even imagine saying this to them"

"Uh" his fingertips ghosted her spine, drawing patterns on her porcelain skin "I can't either"

She propped on her elbow therefore their faces were levelled, dark eyes met hazel eyes and the Interpol chief found herself connecting their mouths again. He plundered her tongue, strokes turning into a feral grip to her hipbones while her right leg slowly forced the brunette to straddle her partner.

"We should be clear, you tell the girls, I tell the guys, and then we get everyone together for dinner at Rossi's" a friction between their nether regions elicited her to hiss at the intimate contact "Or maybe I could just kiss you in front of everyone and pronounce my undying love for you"

A perfect eyebrow raised towards his statement, warmness occupying her chest as she canted her hips to intensify their growing connection. Her folds were still wet from their first round, his shaft hardened amid them with every movement.

"This is the third time" her lips pronounced against the nook of his neck, nibbling his jaw and pulse point right after.

Although the dark-haired man forced his best to preserve his steady tone, his lover could hear a slightly restricted hint, "What?"

"You're trying to say that you love me using other words", she sucked his collarbone afore her hands fisted the sheets on the sides of his head and supported her torso until they could see each other's bare form surrounded by night-like dimness.

"Well…" his rough palm cupped her flushed cheek, conveying her to lean into his gentle touch "Perhaps it's because I do love you"

A lonely tear seared her worn out expression while the mother opened the door and attempted to dry it with the back of her hand. She wouldn't let their daughter suffer or even be affected by their jobs, not if she could prevent it.

Leaving her suitcase upon the table, Emily took a minute to take off her suit jacket and hang it on the back of the chair therefore she could set the alarm. However, before she could type the password, something got her attention. Two unclad feet were lying on the other side of their dining table.

Her instincts plunged an adrenaline rush to flow wildly in her veins, her senses magnified insanely with fear that something might have happened to her daughter. Fingers reached her holster hooked on her leather belt as she positioned her body to the combat. Crossing a divider between the rooms, the ambassador's daughter scanned every wall with her Glock loaded to a blitz.

Carefully – very much so – she rounded the table's edge until she could take in a full picture. Her heart thumped against her ribcage, making the brunette mother lose trace of any breath or words or thoughts. She stuck there, froze agape at a lifeless young figure with pain still written all over her face.

Albeit her digits tapped her cold pulse, she couldn't feel any signs of vitality coursing within her. And so she sprang into action, ran down the hall to violently burst into Rosie's bedroom.

It was _empty_.

"Rosie! Rosie, sweetheart! Mom is home!" she screamed, lost in despair with her mind spiraling and her legs limping throughout the place.

 _Empty_. There was no one there. Nor a single living soul to give her some clue. Some hope.

Reaching for her phone almost automatically, Emily typed a phone number, the first one that popped into her mind as she kneeled beside Cate's pale form. She couldn't take her pained eyes. It was all her fault. All her fault. _Her fault…_

"Kiddo, hello", she could almost see his smile on the other end of the line

"I need you here, bring the team, bring a CSU" hooding the woman's fogged orbs, she murmured to her silent goateed friend. " _Bring…_ bring everyone"

They found her sitting with her thighs pressed against her chest, arms enveloping long legs while one hand held Cate's heavy palm. Drops were falling from her lids unconsciously and JJ was pretty sure she wasn't even feeling.

All the requested units worked around her, and she didn't leave until they said it was absolutely necessary. From various spots, she could vaguely hear their voices. JJ was on her phone with Garcia, whispering some details that she probably wanted the tech analyst to research. Tara stood by the blonde agent's side, eventually speaking something in order to help. Dave and Luke tossed some theories along their observations of the place.

Spencer, oh well, he halted with every step he took towards her place near the couch – they had moved her there and the boy genius wondered if she even understood what was happening. He bended forward to give her a glass of water, but the brunette didn't take it. It was almost like she wasn't even there, like she was lost at some other place. And her vacant stare just confirmed this.

"Emily" Reid shook her gently "Your phone, it's buzzing"

Her head briefly tilted to see a screen shining atop of her agenda. She wanted to move, she wanted to answer. Yet, all she could do was to watch the doctor fish the object and hand it to her. The mother of one couldn't quite tell whether she recognized the number or not. Nevertheless, she picked up the call.

It was a shot in the dark, a voice calmly talking, unsettling her every last self-control and, in the meanwhile, chanting to her ears, "Emily… _Emily…_ I have her"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's the challenge: leave a comment telling me who do you think is on the other end of the line and if you guess it right, I'll talk to you and I'll write whichever prompt you send me!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I scare the hell out of you *mischievous grin*

Crowded noises were everywhere around her, muffled and screaming but silent still. Emily never knew when she started moving, her steps felt like she was gravitating towards the door. The mother of one stood in the empty corridor, _lonely_ , an easy target to whoever decided to have her.

For a brief moment, she wondered why there had no units outside, that natural chaos of a fresh crime scene was agonizingly blank. _Hollow_.

" _Emily?_ " it was a question now, small drops of uneasiness almost too meticulous to be real " _I know you're there, sweetheart_ "

But she couldn't speak, words never forming as emotions flooded every short pained breath. Her ever so cautious mind noticed his shifting behavior, realized a precise waver on his flat tone. Although the brunette wanted to listen to that messy, confused voice – trust her gut feeling, matter-of-factly – screaming for her to demand reasonable explanations, it was her _husband_ still. The man whose child she happily delivered, whose surname she took without second guessing. Most of all, her best friend, someone she had trusted with her life many times before they even became so much more.

" _Listen to me, sweetheart_ " she did, salty tears sprinkled her dark doe eyes " _I'm sending the address to your phone, Scratch is out there and it's likely he's on the run to catch_ you"

"Aaron" her voice broke, stifled by honest despair gracing every falter "I-I… I _can't_ … I can't take it. Not this time"

Confessions were more painful on the both of them, have always been. Weakness, fear, and all those natural human feelings they always averted in order to keep everything at bay, apparently at ease even amidst the greatest crisis. Years passed by, they learned how to rely on each other, open up to each other about those issues. Being a couple worked as a way to learn everything anew when it came to _trust_.

" _Meet me at this place as soon as you can_ " his dry words made her flinch, tremble slightly in utter worry about whatever they were at this point.

Usually, he would reassure her. Even during their darkest momentums, when light seemed to never appear and the longest of the nights perpetuated for such a long, uncontrollable time, the father of two would find a way to soothe his partner. Maybe a couple of words, a rough palm caressing her back or just a long, bottomless pair of hazel eyes bored into her exhausted form.

The new leader could almost see him after that Mexican restaurant less than one year ago. They found a way to silently leave – _unsuspicious_ – therefore he could take her where she really wanted to be. Between Jack and him on his large bed, one small fracture of their equation missing.

A helpless young boy draped her body in an attempt to feel warmth, to preserve the mother he gained from life, while a set of strong masculine arms enveloped her narrow waist. His mouth pressed gentle kisses to her scalp, buried in those beautiful black locks she straightened up every single morning.

"I know you blame yourself" a vibration near the nape of her neck caused shudders throughout her body, down her spine, her long arms "I've been in this same place many times before, you know that"

"Yes…" _but this is different_ , she wanted to add, but he understood it right away.

"Sometimes, there are no words or actions able to heal this sort of thing…" his voice disappeared and the younger agent knew where his musings were leading him to, almost unwillingly "It does get better, I swear"

It was something, comfort hidden within that careful sentence, relished by how he pulled her closer to his clad torso. Of course, Emily never expected Hotch to be one for great demonstrations, explosive bouts of affection or those unnecessary romantic arrangements in great novels. Both were grown up adults whose lives had been everything but kind to them. And probably that was the greatest reason to what they built together.

" _I hope to see you soon_ " nearly smug, he hung up the line with what she considered to be a worried, long intake of air.

Immediately, the younger woman was briefed with her next destiny. Looking back inside, though holding her spot by the poorly lightened corridor, she connected her gaze to big, curious eyes that remained nestled on their couch.

However a flicking shade reflected in their resident genius' irises – almost like he heard everything they had talked -, Emily spun on her heels and headed down the hall to where stairs gave access to a posh entrance. She was aware there were too many things at stake, she was aware something else was missing in that quirky puzzle. But there was something bigger than any other making her move, start the SUV in a hurry.

It was family, the definition of it, and Emily _Hotchner_ wouldn't let this go.

* * *

She was near the place, heart thumping heard against her chest and a vicious grip to the steering wheel. Short nails dug into the material, maneuvering through an empty road leading to a cozy, family-like house with a slim tree trunk graced with vivid green leaves and a small fountain across it. It was dark out there, no bulbs illuminating the façade or emanating from inside. Even curtains were closed.

Holstering her Glock just for safety, Emily hit the brake in front of the grey cemented entrance. It was the right number. _1985_. And a shiver ran down her form, past images of that specific year stole every rational thought. Her eyes roamed to the surroundings, scanned every crevice, collected all that rest of courage residing within. It was enough to keep her moving, heading towards where three of them were _safe_. For a brief second, she considered calling for back up or letting them aware of where she was.

Yet, this was witness security and she wouldn't be the one to put those she loved in danger, she had never been. Besides, she couldn't contain herself as her hands knocked twice on a cold wooden surface, anxiety building on the pit of her stomach and a tiny smile appearing. Perhaps Lewis wouldn't be a disaster, perhaps now they would be able to sustain themselves as a real family, to live together. Maybe Aaron would finally accept to move to London with her. _Maybe_.

Minutes passed by without an answer, cold breeze embraced her while she attempted to twist the knob until she found it was unlocked. Out on an instinct, the mother of one reached for her gun, swinging the door open with her chest constricted until a fully darkened hall formed in front of her eyes. _Silence or call them?_

She wasn't taught how to proceed when on the verge of a panic attack with a serial killer hunting down her beloved ones and apparently getting to them first. She chose, though, rarely thoughtful.

" _Hotch_!" professional, not personal, although so far Peter probably knew about _them_ "It's me Emily! Where are you?!"

It felt much like Boston all over again. It felt like she was entering his apartment to find his carpet stained in crimson. Given the proper circumstances, the abysmal difference between what they were then and what they turned out to be now, of course. In the back of her mind, Emily realized she _made Lewis her own Foyet._ And she also was aware of what it brought along.

Fear flew her veins as no replies came to her, ethereal silence propagated until it was dominated by an unmistakable sound.

"Emily! I'm at the kitchen, sweetheart!" an excruciating weight lifted from her shoulders, clenched jaw relaxing as she headed to where he awaited.

Halting with every step, an awkward burning sensation couldn't leave her lungs even as she sucked in as much oxygen as she was able to. Small black spots formed behind her eyes, nixed her plans to gather with him. Within seconds, her hands were upon a clean table she supposed to be a dining one, decorated and large and certainly a place for a family.

"It took you a lifetime, I thought I might need to kidnap you too" her head tilted quickly, stunned her further into a sensation of near numbness "Well, looks like the family is all back together"

An image, somber and dim with a drained glass of scotch sitting quietly across him, molded to one large chair. His perfectly ironed dress shirt was crumpled; tie remained in place, a completely unsettling disheveled but neat picture. More burn, more ache, more fog conveying her to stumble towards him limply.

"You shouldn't walk, sweetheart" he was beside her in a blink, she wasn't quite sure how so "I'm sorry for making you go through this, I'm _so_ sorry"

Rough palm enveloped her forearm, steadied her for a while longer and with a firmer grip than necessary. It was hopeless to try eye contact; she needn't confirmation to what she was witnessing. Albeit, when brown eyes looked into dark emotionless ones, it was different from anything she could have predicted. A lump choked her, suffocated every lasting breath she had without a single physical action.

"Wha-what..." the brunette managed, dark pupils holding their sight, craving to watch some flicker in those hazel orbs she so long admired " _Kids_... where…"

"Oh, do you want me to tell you what I did to them or you'd rather make up your own mind?"

 _Nothing_. Nothing was what she saw on his expression as he uttered those vile words. It was deadly empty, _cold_. Ever since they first met, Emily made sure to experience every and each possible feeling towards the man whose fingers dug onto the flesh of her - now - upper arm. But never, had she thought fear would be one of those.

Swallowing her pride, and the tingling sensation on the nape of her neck, a weak feminine hand moved to cup his flushed cheek. Her thumb stroked a certain line age gave him, that same one she had drawn the pattern every single night since their first time. He didn't flinch, didn't blink whilst she desperately looked for a whiff of _life_.

"Aaron" she mumbled, tongue heavy resembling those drunken nights back to her wild years; the mother of one heard sharp cries torn from someone upstairs, a child-like voice. "Rosie"

Although the younger woman vaguely tried to act on it, his mere touch stopped her from moving forward. He was in front of her as she stood with the back of her hips leaned on the table's edge, his movements were fast, _silent_ , almost like he had materialized in another place.

"There's no one crying" his sentence was demanding, strong enough to subdue any thoughts that someone else with blood running their veins existed in that haunted house.

"There _was_ " she whispered, whit and black points bleeding into her eye line.

"They're _dead_ , sweetheart" he was in the shadows now, hidden somewhere she couldn't see him; at the same time, confusingly so, she sensed he was everywhere, she sensed he was nowhere "I _killed_ them" surging forward until she could brace herself to the door's frame that connected kitchen and dining room, Emily doubted her sanity as his voice was muttered near her earlobe, his hot breath suddenly against it "And _you're_ next"

 _Right above Doyle's._ It was pretty much all she could think as a blade cut sharp through her upper abdomen, pain dismantling every other possible sensation as she was the one gripping his biceps this time. She watched his eyes never change as he laid her slowly to the white tiles which seemed much more comfortable than those she recollected from her old apartment.

Inside his orbs, wide and scary but void, Emily felt a taste she recognized as her own blood as it painted her depths. It was all becoming comfortably _dark_. Never light. And she wondered idly if she'd ever see it once. _Just once._

A flash caught her attention, a noise whilst lids covered disturbed beautiful irises. She wasn't quite sure _why_ … why she was glad it seemed as much as morning had arrived through the corner of her eyes, why a baritone voice now urgently called her, why another set of crashes were heard from the backside… _lights_ blinded her, _lights_ confused her, _lights_ made her unquietly quiet for a brief while…

" _Emily_! Emily, talk to me!" it was a grip on her shoulders, shaking her "Emily, honey, talk to me"

Hazel eyes. Concerned hazel eyes which she loved to gaze at were staring down at her. It was morning now. It was a strange place that smelled like mold despite the apparent good illumination. It was her _husband_. But this was not Emily anymore. _Not anymore._


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was thinking about my next work and, besides 'And Three Makes it Home', I created a vampire AU and a partners in crime AU. Which one should I write first? Do tell!

Hard knuckles struck his cheek before the father of two could even register, leaving him out of balance with that latching pain of preciseness. His rough palm massaged the spot, attempted vaguely to dissipate it as his sight was filled with an almost not human velocity. Alvez better hurry up and get to that son of a bitch anytime soon, otherwise he'd _fucking_ pummel him out of his damn senses.

A vicious grip to the nape of his neck bowed him, one violent knee connecting repeatedly to his upper abdomen, and he had never been more thankful that Kevlar indeed existed. Even though that protection softened her moves, his stomach twitched and turned and told him he'd lose his breath if it wasn't ceased.

"Emily!" he gasped while the grip on her forearms turned from sloppy to firm "Emily, it's me! This is not real"

He couldn't hurt her, couldn't hit her back in order to subdue her attacks. It was his _wife_ , the woman he shared his life with. A plan, he needed a good one and fast. The stretcher to which she was previously attached – where he could only hope she remained somehow safe in those three weeks that they couldn't find her.

Surging forward with all the weight of his body pressed to her waist as his masculine arms enveloped it, Aaron stumbled towards the surface almost crumbling down in the process. Within seconds, confusing and uncoordinated, the brunette's back collapsed against the edge, making her whine with the burning sensation on her lower back that immediately ran up as the wheels of the stretcher gave in behind it and caused an unexpected motion.

Although he tried his best to protect her from the fall, bracing her on his chest while he struggled to turn them, it wasn't quick enough and they reached the ground in a loud thud.

" _Fuck_!" he hissed between gritted teeth, his whole body sore with hers apparently unawake by his side "Emily, are you…?"

His voice trembled, scanning her limp image through the corner of his eyes. Adrenaline rushed through his veins, heart thumping against his chest with the thoughts of losing her – _again_. Any possible rationality was fogged, _hazy_ , as memories he ached to forget came back in a tidal, excruciating wave.

Still, every single time she had called him after a case that ended up with her beaten, bruises marking her fair skin, all he could think of was holding her close. And this tortured him slowly, because he couldn't go and she couldn't come. He had a life in D.C.; she, in London. Albeit they craved to be together, both knew perfectly part of them wanted to keep going on like that.

Because they loved what they did to survive more than they loved themselves. It was stupid, probably anyone with a pair of eyes would judge them for so, but those jobs defined who they were above all things. Once or twice, the brunette pair doubted, questioned life as a family over the phone. It was the night after their honeymoon was over, and insomnia took the best of them.

" _I'm tired_ " it was more than physical, so much more than that casual weariness after hours.

" _So am I_ " her reply was soft, nearly a whisper through the phone whilst she cradled Rosie on her arms "She _reminds me of you_ "

" _Sean said she looks like you_ " a smile graced his mouth, curved it in slow motion, sleepy yet genuine. Silence lingered, heavy sighs heard from both ends, measuring each word they wanted to say " _I miss you_ "

" _It's been two days, c'mon we've been through months_ " and she couldn't keep going on like this, matter-of-factly, but blocking her feelings was the easier way " _I miss you too…_ we _miss you_ "

" _We don't have to keep going on like this_ " he offered sheepishly, conversation never ended as the raven-haired girl cried in her sleep.

_Nightmares_. The father of two wondered if that would be their eternal issue, generation after generation. He hung up, headed to his son's room, lead him to his bed even though he was big enough to handle it himself. Because he was lonely, he was family, and that's what they always did.

Hotch swallowed thick, convulsively, bending over to meet fluttering brown eyes. Full. Beautiful. And all the possible fear turned into his arms around her, pressing her so close she could barely even breathe. Her body was almost liquid, that not so foreign sensation of another life almost slipping through his fingers made him hold her even tighter.

A small hand on his dress shirt brought him back, balled the material as she clung to it in that dizzy state. The fall could have caused her a concussion, her head being the first one to collapse down the cement. But he couldn't quite come up with anything as a shot was overheard from downstairs.

"Rosie… Jack…" her whisper was ragged, rarely audible near his jaw, yet, he didn't fail to notice how her fingers dug into the fabric hard enough to draw blood from her palm, _nervous_ , wicked in its own.

"They are safe, honey, I'm here, everyone is safe, everything will be alright" he was babbling, word after word into a nonsense sentence as he drowned in her mild brown eyes. "Help is on the way. Hold on, please, just hold on"

Although the father of two couldn't confirm it, his every thought was directed to soothe his wife, to keep her close and never let her go. This time, he would board that plane with her, he would go without complaining because he was more than done almost letting everyone that ever mattered walk away from him. And he couldn't lose someone like that woman - _his_ Emily.

With an aggressive bang, one of his teammates burst through the room only to find his even so stoic chief crouched down a corner with the brunette draped against his body. It was visible, _palpable_ his need to keep her close, like she would fade away if he let loose even the slightest.

Their blonde agent walked in shortly after, followed by an unsurprised Dave whose mind focused on calling the medics. She'd need assistance, fast. It was clear from her deft condition to that crimson spot staining his attire.

Luke holstered his gun, eyed the scene then casted a glance at the woman standing by his side. From what he could read, this was great _damn_ news for her as well. They went through Emily's files throughout the three weeks she had been missing and, never, not even once, had their supervisor mentioned any of this. Of course, there were strange holes in her passports, credit cards, but none ever suggested she had been accompanied.

It was a conversation for later, questions would be natural and that family structure they called team would be in charge for those. For now, they would have another hard time separating the pair therefore EMTs could finally act.

* * *

"Aaron" Rossi poked his head through the curtains, his masculine voice echoing. They hadn't moved her to a private room just yet and this was starting to throw him off "The team, they are waiting"

Their goateed friend approached with his hands in his pockets, a knowing look that spoke volumes to the younger man. His fingers had been entwined with Emily's since they moved her from Scratch's rented house. It was an innate condition to keep going on, to keep moving forward during those hours.

He stood up after pressing his lips to her palm, promising her unconsciousness he'd come to back to her soon. Both men made their way to the waiting room side by side, not a single word spoken, still so much deduced from Hotch's defeated posture. She would heal, eventually, as she always did, but his guilt would eat him up in the same proportion.

Garcia had a worried tinge to her expression, relying on Luke's shoulder to don't break apart as dark remembrances plundered her thoughts. JJ, on the other hand, had Tara in front of her with those heart eyes and calmness only they could share. Their resident genius was alone, legs close to his torso as he sat down in one uncomfortable armchair.

"Kids" the older profiler announced their arrival, drawing everyone's attention as they immediately gathering around the Unit Chief for answers.

"Is she okay?! Tell me", Penelope sprinted on her high heels, almost tripping over a coffee table.

"She'll be fine" he murmured, eyes glazing as he replayed everything in his mind.

"Thank God" JJ completed, her relived sigh joined by most of her teammates. "What about you?"

Room filled with silence, each one of them focused on the man with his arms by his sides and those tears forming as a mere reflection of how emotionally drained he was. Except Rossi, no one had a clue about how intimate their relationship was, neither did they know about the little raven-haired girl crossing the ocean with her nanny as they spoke.

He had to tell them, now better than later while he still contemplated leaving this life behind to follow her everywhere. Collecting his courage, the father of two reached for that silver band inside his suit pocket.

As he wrapped it in his right hand, a vague smirk curved his thin lips with recollection stealing his every sense. His wife should be here with him, should be standing with red lips parted into a lightning smile.

"Emily and I…" he hesitated, looked down to peruse an _A.H. & E.P._ engraved to the piece he had chosen years ago.

"Excuse me, any of you is Aaron?" a low voice brought him out of his musings as he spun on his heels wearing his best confused frown "Sir, Mrs. Hotchner is awake and she's calling for you and a Rosie, she's pretty agitated about it."

"I see" his voice was lost, every shocked face he gladly couldn't see mixed in patterns of different sensations "I'll be right there"

And so he'd be, after quickly gazing over his shoulder to find nothing but JJ's bewildered blue eyes. Somewhere within, she saw this coming, scanned every action from both parts for the last couple of years. She couldn't help, though, a tiny betrayal screaming in her features.

'Go', she mouthed, enough to put him on the move with the only assurance that she'd have his back one more time.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, this is the last chapter of this fanfic! I can barely believe. An enormous thank you for all the comments and kudos and subscribes, really, this was my first multichapter work and I'm really glad y'all enjoyed it! I might as well often write oneshots about this world bc I kinda like it (and there's a lot of past stuff that can be explored). If you have any suggestions of things you wanna see, i'm always avaliable!
> 
> And the oneshots of the challenge will be coming out anytime soon :)
> 
> Hope you enjoy it *wink*

"Where's Rosie?! _My_ Rosie… And Jack? Where's him? Stop this, let me go!"

He crossed the curtain without thinking, yanked it open with nothing but her distressed voice etched on his skin. Dave was sure, Hotch couldn't blame himself more for what happened to her.

When he left for that assignment, drove Jack to Jessica even though Emily was on her way to D.C., the father of one never anticipated Scratch would get to her. And JJ's voice echoed within him, that ragged pitch natural from phone calls torturing slowly for he was in the middle of nowhere, powder, sand and dust surrounding him as that tactical war task reminded him about years ago.

If he hadn't been ever so worried about his team – especially Emily, _his_ Emily – the blonde would have noticed that slight fear and waver gracing his usually flat tone. The Unit Chief boarded a plane that same night, excused himself to his superiors not giving a _damn_ about the consequences to his career for what it felt like the first time in forever.

Cruz called him hours later, while his pen was swirling that whole paperwork and he had just finished a quick video call with the team. His whole body exhausted with the weight of guilt falling hard on his shoulders, those dirty clothes making him look more than desperate than usual.

"Agent Hotchner, I just received a call from the local field and it came to my knowledge you deserted the mission", a deep breath followed, Aaron's hand running his short hair in weariness.

He was tired of hiding, tired of everything and of that whole game they sported throughout the years. Whether his Section Chief would approve it or not, it was none of his damn business. There had no better argument, no better explanation to his eagerness on coming back than this.

"With all due respect, Sir, my _wife_ has been kidnapped and I don't intend to sit out of it" his aggressive sentence cut sharp through the phone, ready to attack at any point and partially waiting for a lecture about how politically wrong it was to be fucking in love with his ex-colleague.

It never arrived, though, and Mateo's leeway both surprised and eased him all at once. He needn't more wars to fight, the psychos they hunted every day were enough for him to deal with.

"Hey, hey" the softness in his words would certainly startle everyone in his team, but he couldn't help it when he caught a glimpse of a nurse trying to hold back Emily from jumping out of the hospital bed "Honey, I'm here, it's me Aaron"

The younger woman backed away just as the suited up man stood by the brunette's side, launched his strong arms around her in the most careful of the ways. Hotch's lips brushed her bandaged forehead, his nose tracing down the way to her temple until her tense muscles melted in his familiar embrace.

"Where're Rosie and Jack? Aaron, what did _you_ do to them?" teary eyes reflected her confusion, partially due to the last three weeks, partially due to how bad she was hurt during their small physical episode back at Lewis'.

"They are alright, they are alright" he reassured, one large hand soothing her back as she had surged forward while trying to set herself free minutes ago "Rosie is on her way with Cate and I asked Jessica to bring Jack here"

The mother of one was quiet for a moment, silently debating if she should believe in the man whose warmness she could feel against her torso. Hazel orbs looked down at her, scanned her furrowed eyebrows, quivering parted lips, those dark circles around her eyes so deep with a different emotion.

"What happened?" she almost mouthed, vacant stare focused on somewhere out of that place "Aaron, what happened?"

It was her time to glance up at him, to meet his concerned features carved in those profound lines that time gave to his constantly even face. What she found there – every emotion surfacing without a hint of disguise – pulled some of her strings, caused him to become a bit more reliable and her to relax in such weaker condition.

"Peter Lewis, do you remember him?" she nodded her acknowledgment absentmindedly, silky curtain of dark strands cascading so beautifully that it never failed to amaze him just how lucky he was to have her "Do you remember why you came back here in the first place?"

"You were on this special assignment, the director tapped you for it and you couldn't say no" he was the listener now, combing his gun-callused fingers through her hair "It screwed up our plans for holidays and you seemed worried about something else that you didn't tell me"

" _Honey_..." he murmured, inhaling the natural scent of hers "This is not a cognitive"

"I need to do this" her reply came seconds later, her palm trailing the forearm around her waist as she bent her head forward "I just need to"

"It's okay" Hotch moved briefly therefore he could pull the visitor chair that remained right behind him and sit down to proceed with it. "I'll be here through it, alright?"

His smooth tone, barely audible for anyone out of that scene, calmed her down, caressed her nerve endings until she was settled to the process. Albeit the Unit Chief tried to be objective, he would never be able to – _never_ \- and his palm covered hers, sunk it into the stiff mattress in order to keep her somehow safe.

"Close your eyes and take a deep breath" he commanded after the younger agent had shifted her position to a half sitting one, half laid down one "I want you to think about what happened from the day you arrived in Washington, what it felt like, what it smelt like, everything"

Heavy lids hooded her often doe eyes, chest heaved and she could feel that burning sensation in her lungs. Emily attempted to any possible reminders, the images flashing faster and wickeder than she ever supposed. Her head was spinning inwardly, too many memories mixing until they morphed into that evil grin on Scratch's face, that mocking laughter heard amid the darkness.

"Emily! Em!" she snapped back, trembling nervously and without a single knowledge of whatever she had done to have Hotch holding her firmly against the stretcher while the nurse tried to stabilize her again.

Her heart was thumping hard inside her chest, breathing labored as though she had just ran a marathon, pupils dilated and that cold sweat forming on her alabaster skin. The brunette had not a clue about how long it had been – five minutes, three, had she even said something? – by the instant she found herself staring back at her husband's lost expression.

"I-" she stammered, bit her lower lip with the influx of whatever that woman had added to her already strong medicine "I'll tell you what happened to me"

* * *

Cold morning shades colored her frame nearby the window, clever hands running down her red sweater as she peered herself in the wall mirror. Deciding to leave her hair loose, the younger agent arranged her new bangs until the hair was perfectly placed.

"Garcia just called, we got a case in San Francisco" that ever so serious sentence seared the space between them, his hand closed around one side of the doorframe as he came back, probably from Jack's bedroom "We're waiting for you with pancakes"

"Thank you" she spun on her heeled boots, that casual work attire fitting her body so well that it made a rush of adrenaline kick in his veins.

His eyes didn't leave her whilst she walked around their room to grab her suitcase and the files they had gone through the night before. There was something there, he was sure, from the nervousness plastered on her posture to the way she lingered when tucking the manila folder inside its proper confinement.

They stood in front of each other for a while, narrowed eyes questioning whatever was hidden underneath the surface. Emily sucked in a deep breath, expressed just how much she wasn't ready to have that conversation. Although she didn't ask for it – verbally - he gave her time, gave her space because that's what he always did.

And the moment they joined Rosie and Jack with wide smiles, her fingers attempting to arrange the boy's hair even though he complained as much as a teenager would and gentle lips pressing kisses atop their daughter's head, he knew exactly what that was about.

It had been _one year_ since Peter Lewis had messed up with their lives, since he drugged her for those somber three weeks, since they decided it was time to be a family, since she told him she had enough of that running in circles life they were leading.

He wanted to go with her, he offered this back then. But there, deep down, she had never been complete out of that team, out of that family, out of where she could just reach out to squeeze his broad shoulders every time she passed by to take her place around the breakfast table.

Hotch watched her in silence, how she worried about Jack's homework although she knew he had helped him with it the day before, how she cleaned the corner of Rosie's mouth albeit the little peanut continued feeding herself. And that short period he captured that gleam in Emily's eyes, read his last name after her given one on the ID attached to her suit jacket's pocket, he couldn't help but to smile at the sight.

It was family, the definition of it, and _Aaron_ Hotchner wouldn't let this go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fin! I'd love to read your thoughts about this chapter or the entire work, whatever swings your mood ;) See y'all next time!


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